The Exception
by mimijoy86
Summary: What's next after 'The Exception' movie ends? Will the love between Captain Stefan Brandt, a German SS soldier and Mieke DeJong, a Jewish spy working for the Crown of England survive to War II? Enjoy their run, exil, drama, love, danger and an unexpected final twist. Casting: Jai Courtney as Stefan Brandt, Lily James as Mieke DeJong Inspired by 'The Exception ' by David Leveaux
1. Chapter 1

'Knock knock'

She startled at the sound, closing the field of her bittersweet memories. Her hands still busy doing the dishes as she gets lost in her thoughts for what seemed a lifetime.

Stefan.

It has been weeks since she had sent the book to the headquarters where he was supposed to do whatever paperwork his country needed him to, where a contact in Berlin secretly messaged her.

She was wondering if she would ever get a chance to see him again, ignoring unknown answers of whether he received the book or if he was even still alive. No letter, no telegram. Nothing. The spy agent who informed her vanished. Just like she had. Gone. No news yet.

When she finally arrived in London she endured a dreadful debriefing from the secret agency that sent her to the Kaiser's house.

Their concern or more accusations she may have turned her coat and collaborated with the enemy. After all, "Women are weak sometimes" they said.

She spit out all the details she could, talking everything about Captain Stefan Brandt, making sure to pass him off as a double agent, a traitor to his country who had saved her life. Saving her in so many ways.

Her hierarchy had trusted her and due to her service's records, foreign languages skills and condition, hired her as a voice coach. Her duty was to teach the spies-to-be everything they had to know about German accents, habits and subtleties of dialect, depending on where they would be based or supposed to be from.

She also taught women the smartest way to use their ass and boobs to lure men. First and foremost, Officers or high-ranking Generals.

Men are weak she said, and stupid especially when it's about bang one out. Best opportunity for pillow talks.

She knew too well about what she was talking, not bothering to warn the ladies from falling in love. Because that's not something you could neither choose nor control. If only she wouldn't have falling for Stefan so deep and hard, she wouldn't have felt this alone and desperate.

Her job provided her enough money to rent this place, relatively safe since they assured her she wouldn't go back on the field.

Being busy kept her from turning mad, she had so much work with the soldiers it really helped to fill her mind with something else other than him.

She already was preserving the memory of him in her mind and under her skin, literally.

Of course there were a number of suitors around her, all willing to put either her in their bed or a ring on her finger. After all, women like her were hard to find; Smart, Courageous, Beautiful, Single and Employed.

But there was no way she could respond to any of those pretenders.

She was his and only his. No one compared to her German Captain, ever.

She opened the door, still lost in her thoughts, her hand left the doorknob to finish wiping them on her white apron.

"Yes?" As it slipped through her lips before she lifted her gaze up to meeting her visitor's piercing blue eyed stare which she knew and missed so much.

She gasped in shock, her hands gripping her chest, her eyes widening and trying to focus on the man in front of her through fresh tears.

He was alive. And he was here.

She was as beautiful as he remembered. Even sweeter as it was the real her, not the ghost image which had haunted his dreams and thoughts for the latest 5 months.

If only she knew. If only she knew the depths of his feelings, the risks he had taken to join her. His slightest heartbeat, breath and movement had been only for her. For this moment.

Stuck outside the threshold, his legs paralyzed and his arms heavier than stone, he felt like that awful day when he woke up from his belly's surgery.

Miraculously alive but skinned alive. The tiny pieces of the shrapnel burst within his bowels and liver, burning hell each time he tried to breathe.

The sight of the love of his life had his body screaming out all the pain hidden inside for months, worrying to death and endlessly waiting for some good news of her safety. The pain in his heart, whilst forced to accuse her of being Jewish, murders and intelligence, charging her of crimes for high treason to save his own 'so-called Nazi' neck. He held back some tears that furiously knocked behind his eyelids.

They shared kind of the same stare they already had, that day they were forced to part, to save their lives. A sacrifice they both had paid the price, that unbearable lack of each other, but which none of them regret.

Now they were together again. Almost. A single step and he would be able to touch her. The tips of his fingers were tingling at the thought but his damn feet stayed glued to the ground.

Tears were already rolling down her cheeks, her beautiful face lightened by a warm smile, the corners of her lips he couldn't wait to kiss trembling with emotion.

She fought the urge to burst into tears, her body screaming its need for his, to hug her tight and never part again. She couldn't make a move though, her lips agape, the air stuck in the top of her lungs. No words allowed leaving her tongue.

Chuckling, he scratched the back of his neck, like he was searching for the right words. Swallowing hard, he just let it go.

"Ma'am" he finally broke the silence.

"My name is Stefan Brandt and I was wondering what yours was."

He finished his sentence in a large grin, waiting for her to tease him back.

She chuckled, eased by having her cheeky bastard back.

If he wanted to play that game, she was totally in. They always had been good at teasing each other.

"Mieke Brandt" she simply uttered in a smile, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

He couldn't help but step forward, his hands cupping so gently the sides of her soft face, his lips burning painfully to be so close to hers and so far in the same time.

Their breaths mixed the same air and they both fought the urge to melt into each other, savouring the slightest second of their reunion.

"Your husband must be so proud of his exceptional beauty of a wife." He whispered, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, helping her face to get rid of all the tears that continued to flow down.

His fierce look was roaming all over her face, from her hazel eyes to her wet lips. It took all he had not to eat her mouth up, tear off her clothes and lick every piece of skin he could to taste her again.

His eyes were telling all what his mouth couldn't, the lump in his throat barely allowed him to breathe, his emotions invading every cells of his.

I miss you. I love you. I want you. Forever.

She had read him loud and clear, and though she'd rather have heard his low voice saying those words, caressing her ears and echoing through her heart to her core, having them screamed by his heart and soul had her heart grown heavy.

She wouldn't complain having her beau speechless: both his lips and tongue could be used on better purpose.

"I know" she smiled before pulling him in a so awaited kiss, moulding her mouth with his, allowing his tongue to enter.

His tongue softly caressed hers, in the sweetest kiss they ever shared.

But the sound of her moans vibrating in his throat went setting fires all over his body and he knew there was nothing else to do but let his desire take control.

He walked her backwards, one hand leaving her skin just to throw the door shut before being glued to her again.

Stumbling back, she suddenly hit the wall behind her, eliciting a gasp from her lungs.

Their teeth bumped under the shock and Stefan pulled back to check on her.

"You OK?" Are the only words allowed to leave his lips before she assaulted them again in a hungry kiss, biting his lower lips, then nibbling along his light stubble jaw until her lips were met with his ear, she licked while teasingly whispering

"Take off my clothes"

He chuckled, his 5 o'clock shadow scratching the delicate skin of her throat where he was nuzzling his face.

She practically could feel his grin grow whilst rolling his eyes.

He reluctantly pulled back, leaving the warmth of her neck to meet the fire in her eyes.

Her sultry tone just added more fuel to his fire and his cock got harder at the reminding of how wet, warm and sweet it was to fill her core.

She was acting like a tigress, her nibble fingers attacking the buttons of his shirt while her tongue continued its wild dance with his.

She was so eager to feel his skin on hers, her fingers couldn't work quick enough. Tear then rip the shirt off crossed her mind but she finally managed to slide her hand under the fabric and stroke his pec. Racking her nails on the hard muscle had revived the memories of their lovemaking and had her turned on even more.

His large hands had already rid her of her apron and were now working on unbuttoning her dress in her back when he felt her opening her thighs for him as she managed to lift her right knee and clung onto his upper leg.

No way could he longer resist that invitation. After 5 months of starvation, his cock longed to be buried inside her, her tender flesh pressing around it as she rocked her hips on him, his palms massaging her breasts.

His hands left the last button, her plump cheeks being preferred. He squeezed them tightly, eliciting a sexy groan from both of them and had no choice but crush her body with his, pinning her against the wall.

He found an unfamiliar bump when his shaft grinded against her usually flat belly.

Time seemed to stop. His brain was overwhelmed with what he was feeling around his lower belly while his whole body froze.

His hands slide from the back of her thighs to her belly, as he pulled back, like in slow motion.

He scrutinized the shape of his hands cupping the mount of her rounded stomach. Standing still, out of breath, he was marvelling at this unexpected strange shape, wondering how he could have missed it.

Unable to take his eyes off of his cupped hands, he threw just a quick glance to her face, where he could read pure relief and happiness through the flow of renewed tears.

He knelt down so his face leveled Mieke's swollen stomach, his hands still glued on the thin fabric of her blouse covering her bump, as he finally dared to lightly caress it with his thumbs.

He embraced a career in the German Army to follow the footsteps of his father and grandfather, to the fate of the men if his family, all dead in action on the field, covered with military medals and distinctions but both leaving widows and young orphans behind them. He could settle for this life which he didn't much care of, filled with whores or one night stands who never loved or even cared about him. This life full of pain and solitude since her mother passed on.

So dying for his country seems to be the better option.

He now was realizing he never have been so wrong.

He had chosen the Captain ranking for the legacy, the medals for the prestige, the uniform to get the girls, the duty as his destiny, waiting for the day he would die. That was his so-called life.

Mieke had changed that. She had changed him.

He ran out of Germany, leaving all this stuff behind him, to join Mieke.

He was a deserter of his country, a traitor of Motherland, a disgrace and a shame of the Army but he really didn't care. Who would want to be a German solider in these times of war? A country which allowed and encouraged the murder of its own people, men, women and children simply because they were Jewish?

FUCK!

He felt like he wasn't a soldier or a countryman anymore. All he wanted now was to belong to her. This is where he wanted to call home. Mieke. And the little life she was carrying. A new beginning. His family.

Mieke looked down at him, her fingers racking through his short hair, then slid from the back of his neck to brush his stumble and uttered with a shaking voice, holding back from vanishing in a pool of tears.

"I was so scared you never will come back to me and never get to know your child..." her last words turned in a loud heartbreaking sob.

Lowering his gaze he put his forehead against her bump while his hands tightly squeezed the sides of her waist.

Towering over him, she could see his shoulders lightly shaking, his cries muffled into her bump, and she felt his hands grasping her flesh deeper , his fingers dug into her sides, never letting her go.

Lifting up pleading eyes on her, he finally managed to reiterate what he asked months ago.

"Marry me Mieke. Now. Today."

She silently nodded her head, her smile illuminating her face drowned in tears.

Stefan stood up, and in a swift movement captured her face and spot kissed on every piece of skin he could, drying her happy tears with his lips. He felt Mieke melting in sobs and a knot tightened in his guts.

He pecked her closed eyelids before pressing his lips on hers and finally pulled away.

Narrowing his eyes whilst trying to read the expression on her face, he gain his courage and asked:

"Is that a yes?"

She chuckled, her wet hazel eyes looking deep into his blue stare, amazed by the handsomeness of his face and the tenderness of his gestures. He brushed her perfect features and downed her palms to her waist, his eyes never leaving hers.

She mouthed yes and he felt blessed like no man before him, staring at the woman in his arms, his absolute everything. The need to be united as one overwhelmed him and he crashed his lips on hers again.

She gasped when feeling lifted up, two hands firmly grabbing the back of her thighs. His mouth crashed on her opened lips and his tongue filled her mouth. Her legs automatically found their way around his waist, her wet folds screaming his cock's name.

She was clinging on him like there's no tomorrow, pulling him in a deeper and passionate kiss, her hands eagerly touching and squeezing every part of him she could.

Tightening his grip on her ass, he helped her to increase the friction of their intimate parts, still separated by their clothes.

He walked them through the corridor, blindly heading to her bedroom or whatever place he could lay her down and finally make love to her.

Lost in their moans and strokes, the world and time disappeared.

Before he got lost in her, a last thought flashed in his mind.

His family.

One love. One duty. One decision.

The Exception


	2. Chapter 2

He squeezed her hand tighter in his. Shifting his body to scoot closer to her, he wrapped her securely in his arm, keeping them from jerking as the car swerved sharply to the right.

"It's OK Mieke. Everything's gonna be fine." He drew his lips into a reassuring smile. But his eyes told her another story.

Gripping her rounded belly, she tried her best to suppress the grimace from her tired face.

Her back and abdomen hurt like hell but she never would let him know. Stefan was too anxious about the baby and their escape out of England, he could have cancelled the whole thing if he had known.

She tried to relax her tensed body but the pain was alarmingly growing higher.

Breathe Mieke!

"Cameron easy!" Stefan patted the driver's shoulder. He too would be more comfortable if their friend could slow down a bit. Not that he wanted to enjoy the view, no, it was the middle of the night, but the relentless rough slalom started to get him sick.

And guessing the discomfort through Mieke's face didn't help.

He needed a smoke, so badly, but he was cursed with bad timing. Again.

"Sorry guys" the man answered "I'm doing my best with what's left of that damn road. It's like moles had invaded London and had fun to drill holes every fucking inch."

He glanced in the rear-view mirror and apologized for the curse.

"Sorry Mieke..."

She swallowed a smirk, in a lame attempt to forgive him. As if it mattered.

Moles. Everyone would have rather liked moles' holes.

But it wasn't. London had been under attack for months now. More than a year has gone by since England had declared war against Germany and its insane leader.

The situation was going worse and worse not only in England but everywhere in Europe. That's what motivated them to leave.

Mieke didn't want to give birth to their unexpected first child in a country in war.

War reminded her painful memories. Both her father and her first husband were killed. But first and foremost, she hated that awful Aryan race theory and the inhuman hunt for the Jewish people. Her people.

She ceased to believe in God, after all the atrocities she had witnessed and those Stefan told her about the first world war, but Jewish blood was still running in her veins and through their growing child.

Stefan was not afraid by the war, he had been a soldier his entire life, ready to die for the Motherland.

But now that the poor Motherland had become insane and cruel, his priorities had changed.

He was devoted to her wife, body and soul and nothing else mattered than run for cover and offer a safer and saner place to settle his family.

When it came clear they couldn't stay here, they both decided to try their luck in America. A country with better ideals and aspirations than bombing and destruction. The country of second chance and promised new start.

Through the decision was easy, taking flight was harder, mostly in circumstances of war. They were not the only candidates to exile and finding a boat to New York and enough money to bribe the right pen pusher and pay for the smuggler had been quite difficult.

But they had connections. Thanks to Mieke's job for the English crown, they had been provided with authentic falsified documents in a record time and for a reasonable price.

And they had Cameron.

He proposed a bunch of names which sounded more English than Brandt. America opened its arms to Jewish people, running for their lives, but unlikely to former German officers under Hitler's command. Changing their names was the better way to avoid questioning and more troubles, even if it hurt Stefan to agree with the fact his son wouldn't carry his real name.

Cameron was their neighbour, Wilma's son precisely. He was a carpenter and often asked Stefan to give him a hand on a jobsite. He was kind enough to keep the hardest tasks for himself, Stefan's condition kept him from carrying what's heavy or hammerinĝ for too long. Besides that, Stefan was very capable and handy. Cameron paid well and was always the life of the party. His great sense of humour fit Stefan's and the pair had Mieke laughed out loud, which was music to their ears.

Wilma lived next door, literally and was a delightful old lady, even if the loss of her two younger sons at the battlefield had diminished her. Far away from being a weak grandma, she was a strong, hilarious and loving woman, maybe a little bit too crazy when her brain played tricks.

As a former self-made midewife, she showered Mieke with advices and old wives cures and predicted a boy. Which Mieke and Stefan took as fact, since Wilma was known to be unfailing. The aromatic herbs she prescribed to cure Mieke's nauseas at the early stage of her pregnancy worked magic and since she advised that having sex was good for the baby, Stefan would agree with anything she'd say.

They finally reached the harbour, Cameron driving slowly and lightless along the docks, not to draw attention on them.

He finally stopped at the right spot of the loading area, where the next contact was supposed to wait for them and help them to board surreptitiously.

The cold air of February hit them as they get out of the car and despite her heavy coat, Mieke shivered.

Stefan immediately wrapped her to warm her up, gently stroking her back, soothing both her pain and misery.

He could have allowed himself that smoke he was craving but couldn't resign himself to let go of her. She was cold and frightened, he had to be there and protect her.

Mieke felt better with her husband blanketed around her, whispering some comforting words in her ear. She melted into him, savouring this last moment of calm before the storm. Time has come to say goodbye, to England and Cameron.

Through she felt thankful to this great country which welcomed her pregnant then married, leaving Cameron behind, unsure of his future and safety, pretty sure to never see him again, left her heartbroken and in tears.

"Take care love " Cameron just uttered, stealing her from Stefan's grip. "Travel safe and give us news when you arrive in New York."

He pulled her back just to cup her soaked face and stared at her intensely.

"And keep that baby at bay for the next two weeks, so he could be born in America."

He shoved his hand in the inside pocket of his coat and handed her a

paper-wrapped package, tied with a thin rope.

"Mom did that for the baby. She told me to pass on her wishes of good fortune and happiness. She insisted on me to deliver her exact words.

'I love you guys like you were my own children. This boy is somehow my grandchild and I want him safe and warm.'

He flatted his hand over her belly.

'Travel safe my angels. I'll pray for you every day until I get good news. And Curtis is the name you'll give him."

Mieke chuckled between her silent sobs and cries.

Wilma harassed them with that particular name, arguing it sounded the utmost English name ever.

Cameron laughed so hard at her mother, confessing the couple it was the name of her late dog.

'Yes, but it was the nicest and smartest dog ever. I pray your son to be like him.' Wilma so seriously answered.

Mieke laughed so hard she nearly peed herself and ran to the water closet as fast as her swollen stomach allowed her.

Stefan hurt himself laughing, hitting his scar in the movement.

They hadn't opted for Curtis yet.

Cameron released his grip on Mieke, only after wiping warm tears from her cheeks.

"Don't be sad love. Everything gonna be fine." He whispered.

Clinging to the package he had given her like it was a silver lining, arms tightly crossed over her breast, she nodded, sniffing.

Facing Stefan, Cameron opened his arms, welcoming his best friend inside his embrace.

"Bro!" Was all he could say.

Stefan hugged him back, patting his shoulder, eyes wide shut to prevent more tears to flow.

"Be careful brother. Make sure your wife is safe." He advised in his ear.

"Will do Cam'. But be careful yourself and stop calling my wife love, OK ?" he warned, joking.

"That's fair I guess. But you're the next on my list. Wouldn't it sound too manly if I'd call you love? In front of your wife?"

Stefan would have barked a laugh in other ordinary circumstances, but he wasn't in the mood. He drew an honest smirk on his face and just bit his lower lip, his fierce stare showing his deep gratitude.

Stefan knew something was wrong. The guy was late, and it made him nervous. Mieke was chilled to the bone, her lips turning blue, shivering.

Where the fuck was he?

Turning his back to Cameron, he grabbed the only two luggage they allowed themselves to take for this one way trip.

"Travel light" his wife joked, gathering selected pieces they had to bring: underwear, dresses, some of his shirts and pants. Their wedding pic, because "your smile is to die for" she would say. A book. Nietzche's "Beyond good and evil" with the note which changed their lives handwritten in the cover page. Two necklaces he offered her, one for Christmas, the other 'for no reason but I love you'. Toiletries. Food. Few items for the baby.

"New life. New start. New stuff." She sang. "You have me, you don't need anything more."

He agreed, catching her by the waist and bending her on the bed, him on top of her, devouring her neck with wet kisses while she shrieked and laughed out of loud.

He relaxed at the sweet memory of their past months together, happy and carefree , like any newlywed couple in constant honeymoon should be.

Whistles code followed by heavy footsteps startled him and he immediately stepped forward to protect his wife.

"Nathan!" Cameron called in a loud whisper.

"OK guys. It's time. Good luck my friends. I hope to see you again. On this life or the next one. Love you!"

His voice trembled and he quickly hopped in the car and disappeared in the darkness of the cold night.

Stefan gathered his thoughts, courage, package and wife altogether and walked towards the shadow standing still, half hidden next to the pile of wooden boxes.

Stepping closer, he noticed the frown on the cold face of the man. He didn't look menacing, but seriously pissed off.

The boat had left hours ago. Authorities had received a message that air raids were feared on the port at the crack of dawn and the American staff decided to protect the cargo.

And ruin their plan.

Though he didn't deliver many, Nathan was a man of his words. He was paid to afford them a way out from this shitty war, he had to do so.

"Plan has changed." He coldly mumbled.

The lady was obviously at a late stage of pregnancy, his first plan to make them climb the ship was definitely out of the realm of possibility. It would have been already dangerous for the man who looked strong but the pretty lady would never have made it.

Shit.

They have to hurry and move on.

Nathan thought quickly. There was another ship leaving soon to America. New York or Boston. Whatever.

He couldn't remember the name of that damn boat but knew where it was anchored.

He had loaded a shitload of whiskey a couple of days ago, Prohibition had its good side even after it ended. Long list of wealthy clients, satisfied by the quality of his products and the trustworthiness of their deals.

"It's a long way. Watch over your lady." He grabbed one of the suitcases from the man's hand and started to walk swiftly. They had a long way to go and he'd better carry the case than the woman.

Stefan held his wife by the waist and

followed the smuggler's steps. He would thank him later for all his kind gestures.

Mieke carried her heavy belly and clenched her teeth. The fast pace was hard to handle but she had to make it. Her gaze focused on the man's steps, her head down her shoulders, she tried her best to ignore the awful pain that cut her legs off.

Stefan felt her weakness and tightened his hold on her. His shoulders and arms burned like hell and he'd rather have dropped the case to carry his wife in his arms but they really needed those stuff.

After fifteen minutes of running, nobody was cold anymore. Nathan never stopped walking, glancing nervously behind his shoulder to check on the young couple. The lady had her face closed, frowning. Her husband silently leading her the fastest she could.

They finally arrived at the feet of a monstrous ship of steel.

Mieke lifted her head up to gauge the building's height which got her dizzy. Her knees got weak under her, hopefully Stefan watched her back and kept her from falling.

"Mieke!" He almost cried out, as she fainted in his arms.

Nathan froze. That was the worst place to stop, uncovered.

He yanked at the luggage still stuck in the man's hand and resumed walking. Stefan slided his arms under Maike's knees and back and held her tight against his chest, her head resting in the crook if his neck.

"Down!" Nathan ordered after he made sure the footbridge was free.

He rushed, squatting, Stefan on his heels.

His arms were stones, tugging on his neck, and his thighs screamed out from the effort they had to endure, pulling Stefan's and her unconscious wife's weight up the rail.

A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen, making him put one knee on the ground. Panting, hissing, he bit a scream back, shutting his eyes tight, adding more flashes and stars behind his eyelids.

He won't allow himself to fail so he tightened his grip on Mieke and stood up again. The wound on his belly tore him awfully, his forces leaving him thoroughly. Grunting deep in his throat, swallowing the jerk in his stomach and he forced himself up. Fighting for balance, he kept moving forward, step by step.

In this early morning, it was highly unlike they meet anyone from the staff, but they were not safe from a morning pee or a sleeplessness walk.

Crouching, Nathan glanced quickly at the empty deck.

"Alright?" He whispered to Stefan.

No. It wasn't alright. He wasn't good. Sweating and trembling from the unsustainable pain that wrecked his abdomen, he nonetheless nodded.

They were nearly done, he had to handle the last meters which would lead them in a safe place.

Then he could rest, cry and breathe. But not now. Bad timing again.

He followed the man through an endless maze of straight and empty corridors.

His whole body was betraying him, the pain creeping through his veins. Each step was the very last he could bear but he kept walking, fighting the urge to throw up.

Mieke started to writhe and moan under his neck, coming back to life.

Mieke. He had to fight more for her. He would have given anything for his wife and that's exactly what he was doing. Fighting for her and the baby she was carrying. Fighting for his family.

Nathan cursed under his breath. He was lost in this inextricable labyrinth of closed doors. He couldn't recognize the right way to reach the room where he had stored a hundred boxes of the precious Scotch goods.

Time was running and he had to find out somewhere to settle his clients on the run.

The lower deck. Downstairs. There was always abandoned places near the engine room. And the woman would be kept warm. They were all soaked to the skin from their run and that freezing cold in the winter air would surely kill her from fever. He doubted the bags he was holding had warm blanket or dry coats in them.

Not that he cared that much, but he was paid for a job and he always had the job done and well done. Which include having his clients on board and alive. Plus the lady was pretty and already exhausted from both her pregnancy and the flight.

He smirked. He cared, somehow.

They passed the door of the engine room and Nathan opened the next one and eyes inside. Empty room as expected.

He pointed his chin, glancing towards the room and the man walked inside, finally allowing himself to lift his wife down her feet.

Stefan sighted heavily, made sure Mieke was safely settled on her feet before kneeling down, one hand flat on the wall whilst tightening his grip over his wound. Groaning and hissing painfully, he shut his eyes, his face twisting in an awful grimace.

Mieke lightly stroked his head, wrapping her hands lovingly around his face and pulling him closer in a sweet hug. A loud grunt ran through his throat and he let out the tears that waited under his eyelids for so long.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, the pain fading away and now more bearable, he stood up and wrapped his arms around Mieke.

Hugging her body the tightest he could without harming her still weak self, he buried his face in her hair, tangling his fingers inside.

Once her scent and her breath in his neck finished to strengthen him, soothing the pain in his abdomen faster than expected, he pulled back a little to stare at her, his eyes roaming all over her beautiful face. Cupping her wet cheeks, he wandered his thumb along her trembling, almost blue lips. He gently captured her mouth in a slow kiss before reluctantly pulling back again.

"Take off your clothes." He whispered, his tone unwillingly more sulky than he meant.

Mieke gasped, then chuckled. Stroking her full rounded belly, she jokingly teased :

"Look at what happened last time you asked me that..."

Stefan paused, confused then laughed lightly.

"Naughty you. You're freezing woman. I just wanted to warm you before you get sick."

She even hadn't realized she was shaking with cold and grinned at her husband, already busy to undress.

He then gave her a hand to get rid of her coat he dropped to the side before working on the buttons of her dress.

Standing still, Mieke let her husband pulling her dress over her head and melted into his embrace, her forehead resting against his broad, bare chest.

His warmth deliciously invaded her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Warm me up you, big stud." She teased, racking her nails up his spine.

He laughed heartily; relieved to hear she was fine. Mieke always teased him, she was good at it and always had him turned on. Their little game often ended under the sheets -or anywhere else- they made a good match together. She wasn't shy in bed, from the very beginning, much to his delight.

But it was not the right time. Bad timing for the umpteeth time today. They were both vulnerable and exhausted. They really needed to rest.

He felt Mieke suddenly stiffen against him and became aware she was crying.

Coming back to his sense, he rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head.

"You're safe now. We're safe."

The door flew open, startling them both. Stefan tightened his grip on Mieke, who shyly covered her breasts, barely hidden by her slip.

Nathan rushed in, an armful of blankets he dropped at their feet.

None of them had realized he was gone.

"Quiet." He snapped.

"The ship is waking up. Brought this to keep your lady warm."

He smirked. They've found their own way to do so.

"How did you get those?" The woman inquired as her husband grabbed one woolen blanket to cover his half naked wife.

He didn't bother to elaborate a sentence and just grunted. His job was to do things like that. Not really, but he felt like he had to do this. He had walked so many boats he knew where to find what he needed. Years of smuggling, people or goods, taught him to stay low and unnoticed.

He met a bunch of sailors, looking for the blankets, even asking where to get them, and he was pretty sure none of them would remember they had a chat with him.

The men were busy to fill their belly, quickly swallowing their breakfast before resuming their tasks, getting the boat ready to put out into the deep.

He had to go.

"Good luck. Take care of the lady." He mumbled before turning his heels to exit the room.

"Nathan!" The woman shouted.

Stopped in his tracks, he slowly turned around and faced her.

She stepped forward to him, getting so close their chests almost touched.

She sneaked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the collar of his coat. Tugging it down, she pressed a kiss on his hairy cheek before letting go off of him.

"Thank you Nathan. You're a good man. Thank you. For everything. Thank you. " she repeated the unnecessary words of gratitude. He wasn't getting used to be -so kindly- rewarded for his efforts, he earned money for that. Adding the pretty lady's kiss and Nathan felt his cheeks blushing and his heart pounding faster in his chest.

For what seemed to be the first time in his life, he cared.

Shit, that's not good for the business.

The lady stepped back and the man grabbed his hand and shook it, his other hand patting his shoulder.

"Yes, thank you so much. We owe you." He said.

"Welcome. Just stay low for a few days, until the boat is on open water. Just take care of your wife." He mumbled to the man. He never had spoken that long to anyone before.

"I'll pray for you and the baby Ma'am." He wondered where this came from. He even didn't believe in God and whatnot, but he would do. He wanted them to travel safe, he wanted her to have a healthy baby. He even felt sympathy for the man.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, he nodded his head to the couple and left.

At this moment, the thought of naming their son Nathan crossed his mind. Quickly replaced by the image of this rough, mute caveman.

Talks little, does much. Accurate.

But it was definitely a no no.

Curtis at least was fond of strokes and kisses and cute as Cameron told them.

He chuckled to himself and led Mieke to the ground.

"Come here, sit down."

He sat down, leaning his back against the wall and settled his wife in his lap, wrapping a blanket around him and another over their legs.

She curled her legs up and melted in Stefan's warm body, humming.

Sitting down and feeling secure made the pain in her back and the storm in her belly stop. It must have been the anxiousness of their rush that had had her uterus hard like stone.

Now she felt relaxed, rocked and warmed by her husband's strong arms. She closed her eyes to savour the moment and sighted.

He shifted under her and reached out to grab his coat, bringing Mieke with him to the side. He shoved his hand in the inside pocket and dug out a matchbox.

Mieke rolled her eyes and whined. Though he deserved this smoke, she'd rather like to stay in his arms, his scent was way better than his cigarette's.

What he pulled out from his pocket next surprised her. A candle. Not his pack of cigarettes.

Stefan crossed his arms in front of her to light the candlelight.

"I planned to celebrate our new start, and take you out for a romantic dinner in your favorite restaurant."

Another digging in his pocket and he showed her the menu.

"Your favorite chocolate bar!" He laughed in her ear, kissing and nipping at her neck.

Mieke squealed and yanked the bar from his grip.

"How did you manage to get it?" She shrieked in excitement, tearing the brown paper that separated the sweet goodies from her teeth.

Chocolate was a rarity by those times of war and she had been craving a crunch for months. Typical pregnancy craving.

"Love, find this was way harder than organizing out trip to New York. But you know l would give you the moon. " he nuzzled into her hair, while she more than happily took a bite.

"Mmmhh!" A strange sound racked through her lungs.

He'd never have thought she would appreciate it that much.

He somehow noticed something weird. She was tensed like hell and slammed her hands on her belly.

Stefan shifted to the side to study her wife. A frown crossed her face, her eyes closed tight, her fingers dug into her abdomen, her breath held.

"A kick?" He happily asked, he always loved to know his son was healthy and sporty.

Mieke opened her wet eyes, her look worried. The calm she had been feeling since they had settled down was short-lived. And the renewed awful pain that stabbed her core was the ultimate clue.

Trembling in fear and pain, she reluctantly spit it out.

"No. It's a contraction. Stefan, I'm in labor!"

Bad, bad timing.


	3. Chapter 3

These few words didn't make sense.  
The baby was due in a couple of weeks, not today. Not here. No no. Definitely no.

The planning was perfect. Two weeks on the boat, a week in New York to find a flat and a job, then the birth. Theoretically.  
Stefan felt like he was enduring the utmost bad time curse.

"Wh.. ? But... What?" His mouth had gone to dust.

Mieke grunted low in her throat, the tear between her legs increased quickly and seemed to never stop.  
She couldn't hold back a scream, her lower part being literally sawed in half.

Stefan rushed, in all four, and faced Mieke, alarmed by her poor condition.

"Mieke! What's going on?"

"Stefan, the baby is coming!" She panted heavily.

He wondered how he could manage that. He was pretty handy, both with wood and humans. Years on the battlefield had made him kind̂ of a specialist with blood and open wounds. He could stop a life threatening bleeding or sew some stitches, but a birth!  
He regretted not to have been more careful as Wilma was rambling about the billion of babies she helped to bring into this world, including the births of her own three boys.

No. It couldn't be true. It couldn't happen. Not now.  
After all, contractions are common at this stage, Mieke already had some.  
Wilma's words hit him  
" The womb is a muscle. It has to stretch to adjust to the baby whilst it gets bigger. That's what the contractions are made for. The more it contracts, the more it's able to relax, the more it stretches."

Which proved that he had more listened to the old lady than he had thought. It matched. It was just random contraction, not labour. It had to be. It could not be otherwise.

"Mieke, it's too early. It may be just a random contraction." He said, putting his hands on each knee of his wife, trying to cool her down.

A loud crack came from under the blankets, soaking them instantly.

"Tell me more. My water just broke!" She snapped at his dimwitted face. Which had him bemused and shocked. She 'd never spoke to him that way. Her actual killer glare was way more frightening than the one she threw at him while she pointed the barrel of a gun to his head.

Another growl had him back to reality. Mieke was in labour, their child sneaking its way through her core. For real.

Shit!

He wondered whether or not a doctor had been hired on this ship. He knew there was highly unlikely a midwife on board. Women were usually banished from both merchant and military vessels.

What should he do? What could he do? What had to be done in such circumstances?

'Scream and run away'  
His firth thought.  
No. He shook his head.

Stop being useless. Do something.

"Mieke. What should I do?"

Finally, her husband was back. The dumb idiot who doubted her was gone, she could read it in his eyes.

"You'll have to help me to give birth. I can't do it all by myself. I need you. Stefan..." she hissed again.  
"Help me! Hugh!"

She was desperate. She was freaked out. And she was in pain. Full pain.  
So was Stefan.

Mieke was contorting herself, willing to escape her own body. Her tortured body.  
And all he could offer was to helplessly witness her agony. Which was killing him.  
He flirted with death when the shrapnel made a mess with his bowls and knew how unsustainable being ravaged from inside could feel.

"How could it be possible? It's so sudden. Doesn't this thing supposed to long for hours?" It wasn't a real question, he was just thinking out loud.

"I... I have had contractions all night long. It started just before we left. And got worse since. The run didn't really helped." She looked down, ashamed.

"Oh Mieke. Why haven't you told me then?"

Their all run made sense now. She being so tense during the ride with Cameron. She being silently following the smuggler, focused and closed.  
She passing out in his arms at the foot of the ship. She silently crying whilst soothing him when he got stabbed in the guts, down on his knee.  
She never complained nor said a word. Holding back every single whimper.  
His little soldier.

"I thought... I was afraid you'd cancel our flight. And... I didn't thought it was... you know... actually happening." She started crying again.

"Mieke..." he was tongue tied. She was more courageous and tough than he had already thought. And determined to save their baby from that shitty war. Which he agreed with.  
He had to save his baby. He had to save his wife.

"Look at me. Mieke, please." He gently lifted her chin up and stared lovingly at her.  
"We're going to do it. Together. Come what may, I promise you to do everything in my power to deliver this baby."

The words hit him. Their baby.

"He's coming Mieke. Our son. He will be in your arms soon."

She had been craving for this very moment for weeks. For months.  
Since that day of September, when he had knocked at her door, finally back to her.  
Making her his wife. Making love to her. Making her hope for better days.

She had been rambling about the urge to cuddle their son in her arms, kiss him, smell him, coiled up against Stefan's naked body, both still feeling the bliss of their lovemaking. Telling him again and again how bad she couldn't wait for the day the baby will show up.

Yeah. Unexpectedly today.

"I'm so scared..." her voice was trembling

Oh, true story, he was scared too. He wasn't prepared for what was happening. Either the delivery and welcoming their son.  
He wasn't ready. To hold him. To take care of him. To love him.  
Bullshit. He already loved him, he just failed to describe the 'how' and surely not ready for the 'how much and deep'

Rolling up his sleeves -through wearing any- he kneeled down between Mieke's legs, and took charge of the situation.

Damn, those stuff were generally 'women only' stamped, husbands anxiously waiting outside the room for the wail that would made them a father.

"OK. I'll check to see what we have to deal with." He said, Mieke just nodded, biting her lower lip.

Stefan carefully removed the blanket from her legs and forced his eyes to her soaked folds.

"You're bleeding!" he gasped.

Losing his mind again, he couldn't help but closing his eyes, fighting to get rid of the flashes of all the blood and injuries he witnessed on the fields, along with a ton of "what if"s invading his brain.  
He would lose Mieke, too much women died in birth, even surrounded by experimented doctors or midwives.  
He would lose the baby, shocked by their cord or whatever woe life planned for him.  
He already had grew up without a mother, he even never got to know his father. He never will survive if he would lose either his wife or his son. Or both.

He couldn't handle that. He needed help. They needed help. They needed Wilma !

He jumped to his feet, ready to run outside that crappy and filthy room, definitely the worst place for a baby to be born. He could turn this ship upside down to find someone capable to deliver his baby, no matter what.

"It's ok, Stefan it's normal!" She started.

"No. Something's wrong. I'm not gonna make it. Mieke, I can't! I'm calling for help!" He whined.

"No you won't! " she barked. "Nathan told us to stay low for few days. I won't take the risk to be discovered and thrown out of that boat."

She let out a long growl through her clenched teeth, eyes and fists closed tight.

Panting, sweating, glaring at his frightened husband, she threatened him:  
"I warned you I wouldn't have my baby on that warped and corrupted soil. You put it in there, honey, you're going to make it out!"

Stefan couldn't believe that woman was the sweet, loving one he had chosen to make his. She was a perfect pissed off, hysterical bitch.  
She was giving birth, he thought, it's fair somehow.

He had always been so thoughtful and considerate with her, during the last few months, she liked to make fun of him, saying he was pregnant for them both. And laughed with that clear, unrestrained childish tone he loved.

He had to stop being that sweet ever-loving teddy bear, that reformed soldier haunted by nightmares. That big pussy.  
He was a captain, for God sake, awarded time and again for his bravery on the field. He was the one who lead thousands of men into battles and many victories.

At least he had to try. Mieke hadn't be given that choice.

"OK. I'll be your eyes and your hands. Just tell me what to do." His voice came out steady and calm.

Mieke dropped her head back on the floor, taking her chance to breathe between two contractions.

"I don't know... Stefan I can't do this now... It hurts so much..."  
Tears flew down her cheeks and he felt her getting weak.

She couldn't give up just when he managed to beat his fears down.

"Mieke, think. Remember what Wilma told you. She blathered enough about delivery to have you graduated. Please, what should I do?"

Mieke poorly smirked at the memory of the old woman pouring teas after teas, having her drunk with water and flow of words. Chatterbox.

Gathering her thoughts, she mentally listed her needs.

"First, help me to settle better. I deserve some comfort. I hope you didn't pay much for that cabin because the decor and services are disastrous."

"Oh I agree. And I will report this to the captain as soon as possible!"  
He laughed while he worked on building a somewhat comfortable mattress with the blankets.  
Leaning back, she sighted heavily.

"Thanks. It's better."

"Five stars cruise across the pond darling. Always travel first class with White Star Line company." He joked.  
"What's next?"

"Wilma taught me about hygiene. Very important according to her. Vital, her exact word. She was always blaming doctors who shoved their hands inside women after pecking their noses or what places they had just scratched."  
His face twisted in disgust at the thought.

"You will find clean clothes in that case. Take them all and spread one inside your pants."

Stefan raised a brow at his wife, wondering if she had lost her mind or was mocking him.

"Through I'm not the one who will need diapers; I'm under your command Ma'am. Just say the word and it's done."

Mieke shrugged and chuckled.  
"Then it will be warm when the baby comes out and you will wrap him in, you idiot! Wilma gave me that tip, speaking of having the cloth stuck against the chest, but since you're shirtless... well I had to figure out something else."

Stefan barked a laugh, they get some fun, even in that stressful circumstance.  
He reached out and opened the case she had pointed, digging out white cotton clothes he carefully put on an extra blanket rather than on the dirty floor.

"There's some stuff we could use in the other luggage." He suggested.

A flash of whiskey appeared in his hand.

"I planned to have a toast when seeing Lady Liberty but it could better clean my hands properly, don't you think?"

"Good id..." she started, quickly cut by a sharp scream.

"Mieke!" Stefan jolted, desperate to be so useless with the pain his wife was into.

"So how bad is the bleeding?" She inquired once able to breathe again.

He held back an ask about how she was. He was pretty sure the answer wouldn't be positive. And got another glare pledging an awful death, by ripping his skin out.  
Instead, he focused on his task.

"Not much. Your cunt is... wow wide open. It's amazing! "

"Yeah. I'm doing my best to entertain you." She could have slapped his damn face if their son wasn't busy relocating her organs down.  
"Put your fingers inside and tell me you can feel the head."

She had never thought Wilma's very detailed stories about giving birth to her sons all by herself could have been so helpful.

Stefan quickly poured some whiskey in his palms and washed his hands.  
He inserted two fingers inside -not like he was used to- and his eyes widened in shock.

"I can feel the head! Jesus I feel it! It's further down!"

A long heartbreaking cry filled the room. She was torn between her legs, like split apart. She never will survive such a pain. She wished she were stronger, for her son and for Stefan but she couldn't make it. All became blurry. Then nothing.

"Mieke! Stay with me!" He roared out. "Mieke, PLEASE! "

He shook her shoulder, ready to slap her in the face to wake her up.

The door flew open, a tough sailor mumbling:  
"What's going on in there?"

He stopped straight in his tracks, astonished.  
A guy stood, half naked, ready to hit some pale passed out lady. Her robe rolled up past her waist, a mess of blood and... what the hell? between her thighs.

"Who the fuck are you? What are you doing to her?"  
He balled his strong hands into fists, ready to kill the man. But the look on his face didn't match with a raper or a murderer caught red head. The man was utterly terrified and yelled desperately at him.

"PLEASE help me!"  
Tears were soaking his face. Looking down the woman, he realized she was pregnant, likely in the middle of giving birth.  
For fuck sake, what were they doing here? A woman on board? What a curse!  
Damn, a pretty woman was better than a dead one. And there was a baby on its way, the curse would be to lose them both.

"She's my wife! Something went wrong with the baby! Hurry up!"  
The man begged.

"Dammit guys! I'm gonna call Marvin. Hang on lady, i'll be back soon!"

He turned his heels back to the corridor and ran as fast as he could to the upper deck and called Marvin.

Stefan fell on his knees, and grabbed his wife, both his hands cupping the sides of her face. Her breath was swallow and short, her complexion dangerously pale.

Beyond desperation, he burst into tears, crying his soul out.  
"Mieke, don't leave me. I'm begging you, stay with me! I can't live without you, I can't lose you!"  
He crashed his lips on her forehead, the angst making way to rage.  
"My love, we've just been back together. You have a baby to deliver and I forbid you to leave! Do you hear me? Mieke stay here with me!"

He shook her frantically, maybe too roughly but he didn't care now.  
He'd just lost her. It was too late.  
He dropped his forehead against hers and let it go out.  
The love of his life had gone and he couldn't bear to live anymore.

Two men rushed inside, but he didn't care and stayed glued to his wife, crying.

Too late. Bad timing. ..

The sailor they first met had his hands full of shits, he put down some devices and what sounded like a bucket of water on the blanket laying near Mieke's legs.  
The Marvin guy was fat and hairy, he just kneeled his giant self down between Mieke's legs and put his huge hands on her belly, patting here and there.

"OK man. The baby is stuck inside. I have to shove a hand inside your wife to move it so it could come out. I need you to sit behind her, and hold her against you as tight as you could."

Stefan lifted his head and looked at the man, puzzled.  
"Now, move! " he ordered.

Stefan settled as Marvin had said, still not knowing what to expect.

"Tighten your grip. Keep her from moving. It will hurt. " he warned, bending forward.

"How much?" Stefan inquired. He hated the idea but he would have given anything to save his wife.

"You don't want to know. Trust me." Marvin snapped.

A howl of pain pierced everyone's ears, something worse than all the screams Stefan had ever heard, even on the battlefields, when men had their guts spread on the floor.

Mieke jolted, suddenly back to life, ready to kill each man here with her bare hands.

Stefan hugged her tighter, crushing her to his chest, nuzzled his face in her neck, soothing if not her, himself. Crying in both relief and joy. She was alive.

Marvin grunted, fighting to free the unborn baby. It wasn't over. It wasn't won yet.

Mieke was still screaming out loud, struggling to escape Stefan's arms to reach her hands out and rip off the skin of the bear in front of her. A final awful tear inside her and the hurricane of pain she had been feeling down there finally eased. Not stop or vanish as she was praying the Lord but at least it was more bearable.

"I'm glad you're back pretty lady. Your baby had their head engaged the wrong way, face first instead of the top of the head. I replaced it and now it has just to slide down and comes out."

Marvin glanced at his mate and ordered:  
"Grant, scissors and needle in the boiled water. Soak a cloth and get one ready for when the baby comes."

Stefan startled and said:  
"Oh, I got this one ready already"

Before he had time to move and let go his grip off of his wife, Marvin stopped him.

"No! Don't move! Make her promise first she won't hit me or something! Women act like crazy bitches when giving birth!"

Stefan didn't know where he found the force to chuckle, but he did, the two men following.

Placing a long kiss on Mieke's head, he spoke softly in her ear.

"Love, I'll remove my hands to give Marvin the cloth in my pant. Promise you won't hurt him or anything."

Mieke's frown relaxed and she drew an evil smirk on her lips.

"Marvin is safe don't worry. But you ain't." She warned, dead serious.  
"Because I'll beat the shit out of you as soon as I'm fucking finished with pushing your son out."

Marvin barked a laugh and added, winking at Stefan:

"Bitches I told you. You know what they say about the crazy ones. Dude, you'll have to watch your ass!"

Back to Mieke, he ordered:  
"Darling you'll have to push now. Your baby is almost there. I know you're exhausted but I need you there. Gather your strength and breathe."  
Mieke nodded, focused and panting.

"Dude, move out." He said to Stefan, then back to Mieke.

"Lay on your back and put your feet on my shoulders. It will help to push stronger. Start at the next contraction."

Reluctantly, Stefan scooted out and stood up, then shoved his hand in his pants to grab the linen, now warm as will, and handed it to the other sailor.

"Grant, that's it?" He asked. The man nodded.  
"I'm Stefan and this is Mieke. Thank you for helping us. I couldn't have done that by myself."

"You're welcome. You'd better thank Marvin, he's doing the job."

"Will do. I'm glad you have a doctor on board." Stefan scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, Marvin is not a doc! He's our cook on the ship. He's from Idaho and was a former farmer before he volunteered. But he can deliver cows and sows!" Grant explained.

"Cows and pigs? " Stefan repeated , astonished.

"And... push!" Came from the floor, along with another grunt, Mieke clenching her teeth at the effort.

Still wondering if it was good or bad fortune to have Marvin the farmer in charge, Stefan fell on his knees and grabbed Mieke's hand. She had regained strength and was working hard to bring their son into this world.

"Come on Mieke, you're nearly done." Stefan encouraged her, whiping her sweaty forehead and letting her happily crush his hand.

"Keep the good job darling. One more time and your baby's out!" Marvin said, his hand expertly working down her waist.

One last push and time stopped.

"Here you go!" Marvin sang.  
A piercing wail filled the room. Tears filled all sets of eyes, the baby was born alive. Fully alive.

Once on Mieke's chest, the baby was covered with the cloth, the scent of both their mother and father invading their little nose as their lungs filled with air.  
Warm hands covered their tiny body, shaken by the upheavals of their mother's chest as she's crying with joy. Sweet lips and tears landed on their soft skin as their father pressed a light kiss on their cheek.

"Congrats strangers! It's a girl! Grant scissors!" A tough low voice hit the newborn's ears.

"A girl? " Both Mieke and Stefan looked at Marvin in astonishment.

Averting his eyes from what he was doing between the woman's thighs for a second, Marvin repeated:

"Yes a girl. No willy. A girl!"

The fresh mother and father looked at each other, puzzled then at their baby girl, then back to each other. And burst into more tears, crying and laughing at the same time.

A girl. You were wrong Wilma!

"So, how do we name this princess?" Marvin inquired. "Grant, needle and thread!"

The young couple didn't answer, too busy to cry their eyes out.

"I've almost lost you. I was so scared." He said, kissing her face wherever he could.

"I'm so sorry..." she apologized in a whisper.

"Don't. Look at what you've done."  
He lowered his gaze to marvel at his daughter and lightly stroked her tiny hand.  
"She is so beautiful!"

Meike chuckled.  
"She 's perfect. Beside she is a she!"

Stefan wandered a tender gaze at the new love if his life.  
"I don't care. I guess Curtis is out of line now..."

Mieke laughed weakly. He was right. They had to pick another name.

"What's the female equivalent for Marvin?" She asked the sailor.

"There's none sweetheart. Marvin means "friend of the sea", and you may know women are traditionally not welcome on board."

"Do you have children?"

"No Ma'am. Except the cows and sows I bred, no woman wanted to marry me. That's why I am here." His voice didn't sound sad.

"Their lost." Mieke uttered. "You've just save my life, our lives. Thank you Marvin, we owe you. "

Marvin shook his head no.  
"Stop this, pretty lady or you'll have me blush like a virgin. You'd better find a name for that princess. Haven't you guys thought about one yet?"

"We were said we were expecting a boy, we're fucked, man." Stefan already cursed like a sailor.

"We thought about Curtis." Mieke announced.

"Nice but there's no female version of it either. When I was young, outta there in America, I had a crush for my neighbour Courtney. She was the sweetest beauty for miles around. She kissed me for my 12th birthday." He confessed.

"Ohh I love that name! Stefan what do you think?" Mieke begged.

"Sounds good to me." He agreed.

"So let's do this! Hello little Courtney!" She cooed to her daughter. "Do you like the name we picked up for you?"

The baby wiggled and made a cute noise, sucking the air.

"That's settled. Welcome little Courtney. Hope you'll not turn like that little bitch who let me down for Danny White. His father had horses,  
I couldn't match for horses..."  
He sadly whispered.

"You're done pretty lady. You were torn inside but not that bad. Few stitches and you're like new! Let's feed that beauty, I think she's hungry!"  
The bear definitely knew a lot about babies.

He spread a blanket over Mieke's legs as she settled her newborn daughter in her arms and started breastfeeding the starving child.

Stefan kissed his wife, then stood up and walked towards the sailor, reaching his hand out to grab his.  
Marvin finished washing them in the bucket of water, whipped them on his pants then grabbed and shook the extended hand.

" Thank you again Marvin." Stefan's voice was trembling. "I thought I lost her. You had saved three lives today."

"You're welcome man. We'll just have to check on the bleeding but she'll be fine. What the hell are you guys doing on that ship?"

"We're leaving that crazy world. Mieke refused to have the baby born under the bombings. She's Jewish. She just wanted a peaceful place to raise our family."

Marvin laughed loudly.  
"As for peace, you're blessed man! You're still sweating and shaking like a lamb which just came through the wolves!"

"Yeah. True story. I think I deserve a smoke." Stefan scratched the back of his head.

"And a drink! Let me offer you a beer! We have things to celebrate! Congrats Daddy! "  
The man slapped Stefan's back so hard the newly father stumbled.  
Bending forward, he picked up the flask of whiskey and took a long sip.  
Handing the bottle to the other men, he sighed heavily.

"Let's celebrate the birth of my baby girl then. We'd better empty that bottle now! I first planned to have a sip once in New York."

"I'm sorry guys. We won't reach New York. We're sailing to Sydney harbour, Australia. " Grant cut him off.

"Wh.. what? Australia? No! We were supposed to head New York in two weeks!?" Stefan almost shocked with the amber liquid.

The sailor barked a laugh, hitting his thigh with his giant hand.  
"I don't know where you're going man. But this ship is going to Australia and we won't make land for the next 6 weeks!"

"6 weeks!?" Stefan faced his wife with such a defeated face she would laugh at him for months.

"Nobody wait for us in America. We could start a new life anywhere. Plus I've really ever heard about Australia. What is it like?" She wisely added.

"Oh you gonna love it guys. Though the accent is the strongest I've ever heard, people are really nice down under. The landscapes are breathtaking, children play with kangaroos and koala bears. And Sydney is really gorgeous; it's like living in Heaven guys."

Oh they couldn't wait, really.

*  
It didn't last long before all the crew knew about the extra inhabitants of the ship. Nobody was surprised at Jewish running out of Europe at the beginning of another crappy war. No wonder they were dreaming of better days, better future for their kids.

The young family was introduced to Jeff, the captain of the boat, who lost his entire family during the WWI. His hate towards German people was still strong but he didn't see Stefan as one of them. That man was in facts a traitor to his country and in this regard, he welcomed Stefan with open arms.

The all staff fell in love instantly with the "two beauties of the ship" as they called them. They fit out a room for the young couple, building a bed with mattresses they borrowed in empty rooms and a crib with a wicker basket. A big dishpan from Marvin's kitchen served as a bathtub for Courtney and a shitload of sheets were cut in pieces to make diapers.  
They worked things out to provide Mieke hot water for the baby's and her own needs and gave her access and intimacy to their showers when she was finally able to walk by herself.

Mieke had stayed in pain for a solid two weeks, slowly recovering from the delivery but the bleeding stopped faster than expected so that her condition got better quickly.  
Stefan wouldn't have left either their room nor his girls for days, if Mieke hadn't forced him to go outside for a walk -and a shower-.

She somehow needed her own space, having Stefan glued to her without being able to be touched made her nervous. Courtney was an angel, she never cried for hours and slept an reasonable amount of time at night very quickly. Stefan loved pampering and he was taking care of his daughter the cutest way. She was nonetheless exhausted, physically and emotionally.

Stefan started to hang out with the sailors, who were craving to celebrate with the new father. He befriended with a few, foremost with Marvin.  
He wanted to "pay the rent "as he said and helped as much as he could.  
But he soon missed his wife and the closeness they lost. Cuddling was great but he needed more.

He needed the intimacy they had shared since the day they met, melted into each other. He needed to feel her, to taste her, to get rid of this fear of losing her. But never dared to ask.

They made love, that day, like by mistake. Uncle Marvin had taken the baby for a walk on the upper desk, to teach her everything about sailing, ocean, dolphins and streams.  
Their cuddle wasn't meant to bring them to ecstasy, but that's what just happened.  
They had opted for a nap, resting silently spooned, her fingertips flying back and forth his arms crossed around her. His hands found back the flat belly he had knew before.  
He wondered if she had wiggled her ass against the half boner he had been wearing since Courtney's birth on purpose, or just to scoot closer to him. He had thought so many times to roll over her but had been too shy to ask for any kind of release.

Mieke just turned around to face her missed husband and stroked his face, eyes lost deep in his.  
He started to spot butterfly kisses all over her face, his hands quickly found their way all over her body.  
He'd have expected she 'd told him to stop but she'd never asked. Rolling over her, he deepened his strokes and kisses, her moans telling him he was on the right way.  
He was slow and tender, his eyes locked on hers while showing her how much he loved her, how she was his everything. Resting on his elbows, he made love to her, trying carefully not to crush her still weak body underneath him.  
She clung onto him, desperately in need to feel more of him on and inside her.  
When they finally found their release together, Marvin smirked from the other side of the door he was about to knock on. Shushing the little girl, he whispered their mom and dad needed more privacy and brought her for another round.  
Just like the two lovers did.

They had more time alone together, since twenty sets of bulging tattooed arms volunteered to babysit the cutie pie.  
Most of the men were fathers and were craving cuddling a child.  
They spoiled Mieke and baby Courtney with small but meaningful gifts and gestures. The staff saved pieces of soap, fruits from the canteen, chocolate bar from their own stock. They carved wood animals, made cute dolls with cloth or socks. Richie, the first mate, sewed a bunch of tiny dresses from his own shirts.

Mieke and Stefan enjoyed their free time together, not that they were already tired of their delightful toddler, but thinking of it, they hadn't had many occasions to have sex before Mieke got pregnant. She had been still sexy with her rounded belly, but Stefan could have explored more of her since she had regained her flat stomach. And the stubble he had been wearing was more than welcome in between her thighs.  
They played their sexy games carelessly, Wilma told them that breastfeeding kept women for becoming pregnant again. Which proved wrong, as they would find out later.

 _Dammit Wilma!_

"I told you this City was gorgeous." Stefan heard from behind.

He had been leaning on the boat rail, staring at the sun rising on Sydney for the crack of dawn.

A glass of whiskey popped up in front of him, he grabbed it, facing the man beside him.

"Dug this out from the personal stock of the captain himself. Heard you planned to have a sip once arrived at destination."

Marvin clung their glasses together and downed a big gulp.

"Ain't Lady Liberty but it's worth the trip, isn't it?"

Stefan chuckled and clung his glass back.

"Prosit!" He said, wondering if Australian have a slang to give a toast.

"Stefan, you have to watch your tongue. I don't think Germans are welcome nowadays." Marvin warned him.

"Yeah, will do mate. We've already thought of that. We've built a story that would work and made new identity papers."

He glanced at his dearest friend, the former strange guy who saved his wife and his daughter, without question nor hesitation.

"That's the end of the road, right? When are you guys leaving?" He asked, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Don't cry big boy. We'll stay for a couple of weeks, then back to England."

"I'll miss you, Marvin." He swallowed hard before pulling the hairy teddy bear in a hug.

"Stop being all over each other or I'm gonna be jealous. "  
Mieke laughed behind them.  
Holding Courtney on her hip, she gracefully walked up to the pair.

 _God she's beautiful!_  
They thought as one.

"He was confessing me his will to throw you overboard so we could live together happily ever after. " Marvin mocked his friend, ruffling his impeccable hair.

Yanking his hand away, he combed his hair back to his slicked hairstyle and stepped closer to Mieke.

Stefan grabbed her wrist, made her twirl in his arms, spinning with her in some waltz steps before cuddling the two of them into his chest.  
He kissed both of his girls, and his gaze went back to the harbour and the City behind.

"Look darlin'. This is our new home. I bet we will have a happy life here."

Mieke sighed and leaned back, her head in the crook of his neck, their daughter babbling between them, wishing he was right.

She told him once; he would have to care about her being Jewish.  
She never thought the upcoming troubles would _not_ come from her past life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: racist content, violence and blood.**

"Awww! What a gorgeous baby you have there! Boy or girl?"

The lady of the immigration service who was in charge with them couldn't stop babbling, a wide grin taped on her face.

"She was meant to be a boy. She's a she!" Stefan showed off, his precious baby girl in his arms.

"What a drop dead gorgeous lady! How old are you Princess?" She dropped her pen to reach out and stroked the fatty calves of the wiggling baby girl.

"She will hit 6 weeks in a few days. She was born on board!"

"She is a beauty! Congratulations and ̀ welcome to Australia!" She nicely said.  
Australian seemed to be very nice and welcoming people.

"And what's your name, little angel?"

"Miss Lizzy Gibson! You're not paid to talk rain and good weather with migrants but to register them."  
Her boss coldly called her to order.

Blushing furiously to be scold like a child, the young woman adjusted her glasses up her nose, grabbed her pen back, cleared her throat and asked, a serious frown between her eyebrows:

"OK. Name?"

"Courtney." Stefan proudly announced, lifting the tiny girl up to tickle her chubby cheek with his nose.

"Well. Your first name Ma'am?" She conscientiously wrote down the precious information.

"Mieke." She answered, making the woman stop writing.

"Jewish?" She quirked an eyebrow.  
The woman nodded shyly but kept her eyes straight on hers.

All the Jewish people who disembarked here in Sydney usually looked exhausted, frightened and lost, averting their gaze down to the floor, trembling in fear to be beaten to death or worse while confessing their religion.  
They'd often lost everything : family, friends, house, honour and dignity.  
But not those two. Three. The young couple seemed happy and blessed, together with that cutie pie the man held lovingly against his chest.

"You?" She asked the man, suddenly hit by his stunning blue gaze, her mouth getting dry before such an handsomeness.

"Stef... Stephen." He hesitated. And got obviously uncomfortable. Weird.

"And where are you from?"  
Her job was also to find out traitors or Nazis. Her hierarchy's instructions were to send any suspicious case to the upper stage, where strong men would roughly get the truth out of them.

"London, England." The woman firmly uttered.

That made sense, their accent sounded European's. Most of the candidates to exile came from this troubled part of the world.  
The man, as handsome as he looked, was still acting suspiciously, nervously stroking and patting his newborn's back, shifting from one foot to another in a too fast pace.

Nonetheless, she couldn't resolve herself to denounce his strange behaviour, promising him and the whole family to the hell of policy questioning, demand in custody during what could be a months-long investigation.

"And I guess you lost your identity papers... whilst the destruction of your house?" She started, her long, meaningful look inviting Mieke to complete the story.

"Yes. An air raid destroyed all the area where we lived. These two suitcases are all we have now. And her."  
Mieke spoke, subtly shoving back in her pocket the false documents she had been fiddling for the beginning of their encounter. Covering her husband's hand with hers, stroking both her man and child, she threw a begging stare at the woman.

"I'm so sorry to hear about such a tragedy. Thanks God you're safe. And your daughter will have a good life here."

"Again welcome to Sydney Mr and Mrs Courtney. I wish you the very best, for you and miss... Jesus I forgot to note it!"

Stefan opened his mouth, the woman obviously misunderstood what he had said, but Mieke cut him off.

"Brittany. We thought it could be a nice reminding of where she's from. It's out little Bree."  
She lied with such self-assurance Stefan thought for one second it was true.

Plus he liked how it sounded. A hint of Brandt, a hint of their past. The perfect name for their baby girl. The perfect mix of their past to start to build their future. A brighter future for them all.

"Owww! How beautiful name you're wearing darling!" She rambled in awe again, while writing the name down the precious paper. She checked all the items were filled then stamped the three copies, and handed one to Mieke.

"You have me disturbed from my task, little doll. Sorry I can't resist to kiss her, may I?"

She was already up her chair, walking around her desk. She stopped near Stefan, waiting for permission. He nodded though he felt like she was playing tricks to take his daughter from him and throw him in jail for misspelling his name or caught in the act of lying.

He relaxed a bit whilst crossing the genuine shiny gaze with which she looked at his offspring.  
Lightly patting the baby girl's back, she attacked her chubby cheeks, stroking and kissing every pieces she could.

"Ohhh little princess you're so adorable!" She glanced at Mieke, both women had a large grin taped on their faces.  
 _Women. .._

"I'm already fond of her! "

"Miss Gibson! " the boss barked from behind them.  
"Contact with migrants is totally forbidden, so have I to remind you the consequences of disobey an order?"

Startling, the woman squeezed quickly Stefan's hand and rushed back to her desk, apologizing to her grumpy boss, her look on the floor.

Sitting down, she gathered the papers spread on her desk, mumbling to the couple.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. Was worth the reprimand."  
Then spoke louder the usual speech  
"Welcome to Australia Mr Courtney. The authority will study your case and you're waited next month with wife and child to finalize your identity papers and immigration file."

She wrote down the date and time of the appointment on a squared paper and reached out for Mieke to take it.  
Miss Gibson winked at the couple, placing her forefinger on her lips to seal whatever secret she wanted to keep from her boss' ears.

Stefan grabbed then yanked at Mieke's wrist, making her face and bump into him. Stealing her lips in a searing kiss, he pinned her roughly against the wall of their new flat.

Gasping for air, Mieke whispered whilst being nipped and licked along her neck.

"Stefan, what's that for?"

Not that she was complaining, but it has been a long, stressful day and she craved to test their bed.

They had walked across the whole town, seeking after an address miss Lizzy had scrawled in the back of the appointment note.

 _128 Kookaburras Street, Sydney. Ask for Cora. Good luck. Lizzy Gibson._

They had finally reach the street, exhausted and soaked in sweat, Mieke's arms burned and hurt for holding miss Courtney, Stefan's shoulders and hands dead for lifting the two luggage for miles. Both had worn their heavy woolen coats all the way, under the hard sun of the Australian summer.

Cora was Lizzy's cousin. She lived in a small house which had an extra tiny flat to rent next door.  
She was as in love at the first sight with baby Bree as Lizzy had been and more than happy to have that lovely couple as neighbours.

The two floors furnished flat was cozy, there was just a kitchen and a water closet downstairs and a bedroom upstairs. No bathroom here but she nicely offered them to use hers as often as they needed. Plus a free babysitter whenever they want or need to entrust the little girl.

Bree was soon asleep, they manage to make a crib with a blankets and a big basket they borrowed to Cora.  
Time to settle down and enjoy their new home.  
Mieke would happily crash down their bed and sleep for the next three days.

The way her husband grinded against her thigh made her realize they could test all their new bed's potential.

He grinned against her skin, teasing her:

"I just can't wait to start our honeymoon babe. "

"Honeymoon?"  
It must be the Australian thick air, they've been married for 6 months already and had enjoyed a long, sensual, suave and Earth-shattering honeymoon in London.

"I've never got to make love to my new wife."  
Lifting her up swiftly from the ground, he walked her towards their bedroom, which he intended to fully take advantage of.

"Come here, Mrs Courtney, let's have some fun in there."

Unfortunately, all the money they had saved wasn't worth that much then.  
Untoward side effect of an economy being in war.  
Marvin provided a job on the docks to Stefan, they needed arms to unload the cargos down the ship.  
After only three days of getting up at the crack of dawn and lifting too much heavy stuff till sunset, Stefan had to forfeit, the wound on his stomach hurt like a bitch and he got fever, which had Mieke worried to death.

Marvin worried too and strictly forbad Stefan to come back to work. He promised him to find a job more appropriate, like truck driver or foreman but in no case he would want to see Stefan lifting heavy boxes.

That stubborn German insisted to leave the bed and have his job back. He had to afford the rent and refused to see Mieke forced to leave their daughter to work herself to death.

"I'm not the one who's dying for working my ass off." She snapped at him when he wretchedly fell on the floor, too weak to stand up straight.

"Stop scolding me woman. You'd better bring your little ass here and give me a hand to get up."  
He laughed when she wiggled her ass before his nose, pretty sure it could help him to get better.

Pulling on his hand, she managed to have him up, letting him lean heavily on her shoulder. Stefan stumbled back, hooking his arms around her waist, making them both tumble on the bed.  
He rolled over her, hissing from some pain coming from his abdomen.

She laughed out loud when feeling his not-weak-anymore member which was grinding against her belly.

"Let me practice you once or twice. It will help to recover faster." He teased in her ear, biting on her neck.

"Word." She just uttered, before being kissed roughly and hearing her panties torn and thrown to the side.

*  
They got up early that day. They were expected at the Immigration department to get their official Australian documents as political refugees.  
They were registered as English citizen and with a job and respectable situation, it won't be long before they got their Australian citizenship. Technically, Courtney  
-damn her name is Brittany now- could be considerate as an Aussie, like they say Down Under, the boat she was born on flew the Australian flag.  
To tell the truth, none of them really cared. As long as they were together, a roof over their heads, happiness filling their plates.

New name, new start, new life.

They celebrated that day by having one of the best sex they'd ever had,  
laughing between their sighs of pleasure, him tickling her sides while she was purposely leaving marks on his neck.

Had he been aware it was the last time he was making love to his wife, he would have made it last longer. He would have been more careful to record her slightest moans, the feeling of her lips on him, the softness of her skin and curves. Every line of her beautiful face.

Wails coming from the crib forced them to get out of bed, and get ready for their appointment.

 _Knock, knock._

Stefan quickly put a shirt on and walked downstairs to open the door to this unexpected visitor.  
Probably Cora, their neighbour, who was used to bring them extra veggies or bottle of milk she had. Or someone turned angry by their loud screams of their latest ecstasy.  
He chuckled at the thought as he grabbed the doorknob.

"Mr Stephen Courtney? "  
Two men all suited in seriousness and black uniforms were standing on the threshold, papers in hand.

"Yes?"

He thought Australian authorities were so kind to bring them the documents at home.  
It would keep them from a long walk across the city; Rain was beginning to fall, and he wouldn't want Courtney  
-Bree, he wasn't used to call her that- to be soaked and grumpy.  
He drew a filthy smirk on his face; he could put the baby back in her bed and Mieke back to their.

"Does a certain Captain Stefan Brandt mean something to you, Mr. Courtney?" The man asked.

His heart stopped. His mouth got dry. His grip tightened on the knob, his knees getting weak for a second.

"No." He curtly replied.

Mieke popped up behind him, and stopped the baby talk she was singing to Courtney. Bree.

"We were talked a German SS officer by the name of Stefan Brandt had arrived by sea with wife and kid, and tries to hide behind false name here in Sydney."

Despite the stabs in his guts, Stefan  
-Stephen!- stood up straight, poker face.

"I'm sorry I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm afraid I can't accept your answer Mr. Courtney. The sailor who spit out the information was pretty clear: a tall dark blond male with blue eyes and a damn pretty brunette who gave birth in the ship to a lovely baby girl, about 6 weeks ago. How old is your baby girl Mr Courtney? If I'm not mistaken, you told the immigration service lady she was born on board."

 _Connor_.

This stupid Irish was almost dumb with an empty stomach, but completely unable to hold his tongue after three drinks.

Stephen clenched his teeth, and didn't answer.

Staring coldly behind his shoulder, the man continued :

"Does that pretty lady of yours know about that?"

"No. She doesn't." He cut him off.

"If I may, I'd love to hear it from her." He insisted, one step forward.

"No, you may not."  
Stefan stepped back to protect his wife and child.

"Now if you would excuse us, we're expected."  
Stefan grabbed Mieke's hand, interlocking their fingers together.  
No. Nobody would divide them.

The man stiffened and reached his arm out, preventing them to walk further out.

"I'm sorry but you're not going anywhere. You'll follow us to the police station where we'll proceed to an official interrogation. I'd like to clear some things up about who you are. Or who you pretend to be."

Mieke crushed her husband's hand, holding her breath.  
No. Not that curse again.  
She bit her lips which were going to whisper her husband's name. She wouldn't risk making a mistake and jeopardize his chance.

"Baby..." she tried.

The tense filled the air around them and Brittany started wailing, her cries getting louder despite her mother's attempt to calm her down.  
Losing battle.

The man in black grinned devilishly.  
"Think wise, Mr. Courtney or whatever your name is. We 're empowered to use the force if necessary and there are things nobody here is willing for your wife and your adorable child to witness. Aren't we?"

Stefan clenched his teeth, jawlines sharp. He could feel Mieke trembled.  
Following these guys was the smartest thing to do, they had repeated their story again and again, to be ready for a moment like that. They had just pictured they would be settled in an office of the Immigration Department building, not here, on their own household.  
He nonetheless couldn't resolve himself to let go off the knob he was pulverizing.

No. He won't leave his house. He won't leave his wife. Or his daughter. No way. He won't allow anyone to jeopardize his family, his happiness. He couldn't stand to figure out his baby girl growing up without her dad. Never let his devastating childhood happen again.

The man was not known to be patient. He was the head detective of the Sydney police department, in charge with the possibly 'alien enemy' cases. He was very skilled to detect the cheaters, he got nose for lies and inconsistencies in the stories that are a complete fabrication. He could worm the truth out of the toughest guy, beating up those rats was his favorite part of his job. He had some Nazis or deserters on his list of prides, and was craving to add this one.  
As cute as his little family seemed, he wouldn't fool him. A German wuss and a Jewish princess, he shivered in disgust. He would never allow bad blood invade his country. Australia deserved the best of white, honest people.

The cries of the ashamed mixed-blood baby started to piss him off and the brazen faced standing still in front of him wrecked his nerves. He was the law, he was mandated by the Australian government to take that man for questioning. He had to submit to his authority.

"Please, follow me." He ordered.

Stefan didn't even move a finger, but tightened his grip on Mieke. He glanced at her, to snap once again to her gorgeous face, which was wasted by terror.  
She was clung to her screaming daughter, petrified by the situation.

Couldn't they just be happy? Left alone, just the three of them?

"Now!" The man barked, grabbing Stefan's wrist.

Game over.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Stefan yanked at the man's grip.  
He knew he was wrong -oh yes he was- but he saw no other options.

Though the man was short and skinny, he was quick to strongly punch Stefan in the face, then in the guts, obviously used to fight.

Mieke screamed as she witnessed his husband crashing down the floor, grunting loudly as he wrapped his arms on his stomach.

She jumped forward to grab his husband, the baby roaring out in her other arm.  
The man bluntly pushed her backward, purposely crashing a foot on Stefan's hand as he poorly tried to roll on all four.

"Bastard!" He growled between his teeth, the taste of blood invaded his mouth. "Stay away from her!"

The man bent over his face, pressing his heel harder on Stefan's hand, eliciting a loud rumble from the back of his throat.

"Are you giving me orders, Mr. Courtney? Do you think you're allowed to open your mouth? I gave you the opportunity to talk lately but you just screwed it up."  
He lifted his heel just enough to crash it violently back on Stefan's hand.

Stefan howled in pain, curling his knees under his chest in a desperate attempt to stand up.

"Down!" He yelled at Stefan, kicking violently in his side again. "You'll stand up only when I decide you could."

"No!" Mieke screamed out, kneeling down near him.

The man kicked her roughly in the shoulder, making her fall hard on the floor. Tightening her grip on Courtney not to let her down, Mieke shrieked both in fear and rage.

"FUCK YOU!" Stefan shouted , tugging at the sleeve of the man who was threatening his family.

"Don't you dare!"  
The man lost his nerves and hit Stefan like his fist was a hammer, again and again until his knuckles got red.  
Stefan could only glance at Mieke who was soaked in tears, hugging Courtney safely against her chest, rocking her to make her stop crying.

Then the man started kicking relentlessly on Stefan's belly, smirking at the crack of his ribs.  
Gasping from a flash of pain, Stefan threw up, breakfast and blood, while hearing in the distance, his brain getting dizzy and confused:

"And consider yourself lucky I won't throw your Jewish wife and spawn in a camp. They're all full of rats and black beetles. I don't want to add more garbage out there." The man said in his ear, throwing a threatening glance to Mieke.

"Mieke..." Stefan weakly whispered.

The man viciously smirked in contentment.  
He had warned him, he was the law. He had power of life and death on strangers, mostly traitors to their countries. He doubted for a second that the guy was a soldier, a captain. He was so weak, despite his large frame and bulging arms.

The woman was still crying , the baby screaming for her little life.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growled at the two females, walking across Stefan's body, a threatening fist over his head.

Mieke crept back against the wall, hiding her baby girl with her arms. The palm violently hit her face, making her head jerk to the side.  
Crouching down, the man wiped the tears that soaked her face, letting trails of blood, Stefan's blood, on her bruised jaw.

"Look at you, poor lamb. Sometimes I feel like the Führer is right. Jewish aren't better than those dirty natives. You're even not able to find someone strong enough to protect you."  
Narrowing his eyes to scrutinize her face and swollen cheek, he snorted.

"What a shame, you've got a damn pretty face. Stay hidden until the bruises disappear and then you could hook a bit to save money. Pretty Jewish princesses like you make good whores on the docks."

She averted her eyes from his disgusting lustful stare and locked Stefan's beaten face.  
Clenching her trembling jaws not to let a sigh or a sob out, she silently cry watching the waste that was her husband.

Stefan couldn't move a thing, turning his head to witness that bastard hit his wife was already a miracle. Tears flowing down his face, blood slipping out from his cut mouth, he made a lame attempt to reach out his hand towards her.

"Mieke.." he barely whispered, bubbles of blood spitting from his mouth and nostril.

"DAMMIT! This vermin is hard to knock down!" The man left Mieke to face the nearly unconscious body of that so-called Mr. Courtney.

One last kick in his abs, one last punch on his jaw, one last heart-rending scream from Mieke calling his name covered by his daughter's cries.  
Then nothing.

Black out.


	5. Chapter 5

He was safe. He was safe in her arms. His head resting on Mieke's lap. Her hands stroking his face and running through his hair. Her lips deliciously trailing kisses along his swollen face, soothing his pain. Telling so much "I love you it felt like in Heaven.  
No more pain.

"Wake up!" She whispered in his ear.

He hummed. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to stay here, wrapped in her arms, forever.

"Come on! Wake up!" The voice was more insistent.

 _Let me sleep Mieke, please I'm exhausted. Keep nursing me. Keep rocking me against your chest. I love your voice. I need your touch. Your scent is marvelous. Mieke I love you, let me rest on your thighs for a while_.

"Wake up bastard!" The voice barked.

A fist crashed on his jaw, the taste of blood invaded his mouth. Again.  
He opened his eyes, at least he tried. His swollen eyelids barely allowed him to see anything. Whatever, his sight is so blurry.  
He grunted. The shadow in front of him was not Mieke. Obviously.  
He spit some blood out, the coppery taste didn't leave his mouth.

"Speak asshole!" The man ordered, sending another punch in his temple.

The way the man was destroying his face taught him he was not the same who knocked him down. And hit Mieke and frightened their baby daughter.

Bree!

He clenched his teeth, not from pain, he didn't feel anything anymore. His face and body were wrecked, smashed in pieces after being beaten up for hours.  
He clenched his broken jaw from rage.

Anderson.  
That's how he had introduced himself  
before accusing him, crossing the threshold of his fucking house to trample his life and ruin all his hopes for happiness.  
He swore he would kill him. As soon as he would have his hands freed from those handcuffs which tied his wrists behind his back.

"Mieke..." he mumbled, worried to death about the fate for his family.  
His wife and baby.  
He only could remember the awful sound of their cries.

FUCK!

"Speak louder! What's your name!"

Stefan's head tumbled and jerked under the relentless punches of the other man in black.

Schmidt. Or something like that. Sounded more German that Australian.

"My name is Stephen Courtney. My wife name's Mieke and our daughter's is Brittany. We left London two month

"I had surgery when I was 12 and the scar became infected. Surgeons had to operate again before I died from blood-poisoning." He repeated for the hundredth time.

"You'll better have died then. It'd have save me those bruises on my knuckles." Schmidt rubbed the back of his hands.

He silently asked what he had to do next, glancing at his supervisor who waved his hand in disbelief.

"Get rid of him. He's useless. He won't speak today."

Schmidt drew a devilish smirk on his face and slammed his feet on the edge of the chair where Stefan was tied; the tip of his shoe threatened his crotch.

"We'll see if he'll be more eloquent when his pretty woman and baby girl will receive the same treatment."  
He bent down to stare deeply into Stefan's widened eyes.  
"We always get what we're looking for."

 _Mieke! Bree! NO!_

Before Stefan could utter the slightest word, Schmidt hit him one more time in the face, then pushed the chair backward, knocking it over.  
Stefan fell on his back, the back of his head crushing hard on the ground.

Knock out.

"Stefan!"

He thought he had heard his name in the distance.  
Mieke was calling his name. His real name. Her voice sweet and clear in his mind.

Her lips.

He was floating in limbo, church bells echoing in his skull, hurting like hell.

"Stefan!"  
Her eyes. Her sparkling dark brown eyes.

He slowly opened his eyes, fluttering under the bright lights of the ceiling, adding more flashes and pain under his eyelids.  
Godammit! His head!

He managed to lift his hand -the one which had not been broken by Anderson's heel- and pressed it on the side of his head, where some vicious monkey was playing drums.

"Stefan!" The voice was full of hope and relief.  
Bree. His baby. His doll. Her fatty hands gripping his stubble.

He kept his forearm crossed before his eyes, so he eventually could see something. Or block another punch.  
The last time he let his brain lure him with some bittersweet memories of his wife and the promise of her hands on him, he had a hard time.

Waiting for his sight to become less blurry, he noticed he was lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position.

Bree. Her wiggles and giggles when he attacked her belly buton with kisses.

"Daddy!"

He leaned up on his elbow, scanning the room where he had obviously been thrown roughly. His shirt was laying next to him, torn in pieces and covered by -his- blood.  
That was it. His brain was fucking with him again, spreading salt on his wounds.  
Except from having slept for years, there was no chance he could have heard his daughter calling him.

He was losing his mind, alone, the bars of his filthy cell for unique company.

He gathered the pieces of his limbs together and sat down, his arms crossed around his knees, his head between them, rocking back and forth.

Half past bunny time,  
'Possums by the moon;  
Tea and bread-and-honey time,  
Sleep-time soon.

Things that poets pant to see,  
The beautiful, the true,  
Are nothing to the phantasy  
The closed eyes view.

The poem Cora taught him worked so well to have the little girl asleep within the minute, his deep and low voice singing the lullaby again and again, his stare savouring the slightest whimper, sight, suckle of the bun of love sleeping like a stone in the home-made crib, her tiny hands fisted each side of her cutie face.

The song told the truth, he closed his eyes and let his brain roll up the memories of his short, too short happy life.

Noises and ruckus suddenly came from the other side of the door which separated the cells from the offices.

"Let me see him!" A voice loudly barked.

Muffled voices tried to calm down the hysterical screams.

"I won't calm down until you let me see my husband!"  
The tone was beyond hysterical and he could hear stationery flying through the room and crushing down the ground. Or the wall.

The door slammed open and Mieke rushed inside.

"Mieke! "

He jumped to his feet and stumbled to the bars he grabbed for balance. His injured body was screaming out loud but he barely noticed.  
Reaching his hands out, he caught both sides of her head and crashed her to his lips. Tears soaked his palms and he couldn't tell if they were hers or his.  
Mieke hooked his wrists, still red marked from the cuffs. But nothing mattered. She was there.

She was there.

Pulling back, she roamed her eyes all over his face and upper body, before locking her stare into his.

Never leave me again. Never look anywhere but into my eyes.

"What have they done to you?"  
Her fingertips running lightly over his bruises and cuts, instantly healing his wounds.

"What have you done to him?" She yelled at the cop standing in the door frame, not bothering to even glance back.

Brushing the pad of his thumb across her swollen lower lip and the purple bruise on her cheek, he whispered, pulling her closer, forehead touching between bars.

"What has he done to you..."  
Rage ran through his veins and he unwillingly tightened his grip on her neck.

"Mieke how are you? Where's Bree?"  
He inquired, praying whatever God who was listening they were safe.

"Cora's looking after her. She's fine. She missesyou. I've been tracking you for days! Lizzy helped and found out you were thrown in jail yesterday. I've moved Heaven and earth to find you..."  
She swallowed back a sob.  
"I thought you were dead. Stefan, I thought I'd lost you."  
She buried her face in his bare chest and stopped breathing, preventing from burst into unstoppable tears.

"I didn't know what to do. " she hugged him tighter. "What should I do?"

"Mieke" he couldn't help but kissing her one more time.  
"They said I am an alien enemy. They don't believe in our story. They said they'll send me to an internment camp, outside Sydney. In Hay or Cowra I don't know."

"No!" Her voice broke. She couldn't holding back her tears and affliction.

"Ma'am, you have to leave now." The cop behind them anxiously said.

"No!" Stefan gasped, his lungs suddenly empty with air.

He wrapped his wife, the reason he was still alive, the voice which kept him from giving up, melting their bodies together despite the cold bars that crashed his chest.

She cupped his face, sealed her lips on his, terrified to be separated from him again.

"I swear, I swear I'll do everything I can to have you back home."

"Ma'am, please, don't force me to..." the man was losing patience, glancing  
constantly through the door. Schmidt, or worse, Anderson popping up in the police dept. office will have him without job and likely without life for letting the woman in.

"No!" Stefan yelled at him. "She's leaving."  
The last thing he wanted was his wife  
mauled before his eyes. NOT again.

"Mieke, please, go."

"No!" She clung to him desperately.

"Mieke..." He roughly slammed his mouth over hers then pulled back.  
"Go... Now ."

"NO!" She was drowning in her own tears, gripping his hands.

"Mieke, please..." he forced her intertwined fingers off of his, but she clawed them back.

"Mieke..." he begged her.

The police officer walked behind her back and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back with all the force he could.

"NO! Stephen!" Her cry was heartbreaking, Stefan wished he was dead instead of watching his wife being snatched away from him.

"I'll never stop! I'll never stop looking for you!" She struggled to reach out a hand towards him.

"I know" he mouthed, snapping her eyes and face as she was dragged back by the policeman.

Their fingertips touching a last time before the man violently yanked at Mieke's body, throwing her out of the room.

"I LOVE YOU!" she howled before the door slammed shut.

"I know..." Stefan's grip loosened around the bars, allowing his blood to finally reach his white knuckles. He slowly crouched down, his head sliding down the bars and sat heavily on the ground.

"I know." He whispered once more before cracking in tears, his palms crashed on his face as he screamed and cried his soul out.

*  
Mieke knew exactly what she had to do. Leave no stone unturned, shake every bell she'd find, doing the impossible to have her husband back.

She already lost a husband, she wouldn't let Bree grow up without her father. And beyond that, he was her love, her husband. Him.

She ran, days and nights, in every place in Sydney and beyond. She talked to every single personStefan met. From the worst suspicious fella who dabbled in the black market, smuggling or Chinese mafia for sure, Stefan met while doing deliveries, to the sexiest whore walking the streets around the docks, where he had his habits hanging out with Marvin.  
Every single soul.  
Mobsters offered their help, planning an abduction or whatever could have Stefan out from his jail. Too dangerous, Mieke didn't want to have him free but dead. Or her family forced to be on the lam forever.

The prostitutes were united as one, saying Stefan was the most respectful and honest man they'd ever met.

"Don't worry darlin'. He was only here to have a drink or two with Marvin. Marvin had some fun with Marla but your hubby, ma chérie... Gosh he was such a treasure. He chatted with all of us, called each girl by her nickname, listened to our stories. He always treated us like human beings, which is not very common in our job. But he never had a look at one girl anywhere but in the eyes. Never touched or desired anyone of us. It's a shame, you know... such an handsome man. But Stephen had only one woman in mind, you lucky girl. He's crazy in love with you, it's written on his face. You got his heart, and I can easily understand why." Judith, a Jew who left France when things were turning into shit, told her, wiping the tears from Mieke's cheeks.

She apologized for not being more helpful, but gave Mieke good tips about Detective Anderson's bad, filthy habits when he paid them a visit. Enough to ruin his reputation and name for the next decade, and maybe make him think twice before sending Stefan in one of those awful internment camps.

Mieke was beyond exhaustion and anxiety and accepted the shot of whiskey Judith had offered.  
She was trying to gather all the pieces she had in her brain but every lead came to a deadlock.

She said no to the bootleggers.  
The lawyer Lizzy sent her to, said she had to prove her husband was not a Nazi nor a SS. An average German citizen would have worked, but a Captain from the SS army would be difficult to defend before the Immigration court.  
She planned to call or send a message to the Kaiser, the only one who knew the truth and whom words could count, if he was still alive. But all the communication means to Europe like Phone calls or telegrams were reserved to the military needs and a message by mail was too risky, the Kaiser would likely never receive her request, or his answer would never arrive to her.  
She couldn't even consider going back to the Kaiser's house, she never would put her baby into such a trouble. She -they- left London purposely to bring their daughter away from the war, no way she going back.

Bree. She had entrusted the little girl to Cora for too long, her painful and swollen breast screamed to go back home and breastfeed her baby.

She cut short the soliloquy Judith was into, catching only few words about Marvin being so gentle despite his appearance.

Marvin. He could have been the key, she could have given him the letter before he sailed off to London, and one of her contacts there could sendthe message to the Kaiser. Safely.  
But he was gone. They had celebrated and said their goodbye two days ago.

Bad timing.

"I'm sorry I have to go. Thanks for your help Judith. And for the drink." She sadly said, drawing a line at her last hope. That damn war would end at one point and Stefan would be free then. It was just a matter of years.

Stefan had spent the last three months to dream.  
Dream of his wife, forcing himself to draw the outlines of her face and curves in his head, practically feeling them under his palms.  
Dream of his baby girl, trying to figure out how she could look like, what she was able to do, what her babbling and her laughs could sound like.  
Dream of the better days he imagined with Mieke, talking about how much kids they would want, sharing the names they loved, building solid foundations for their family.

Dreaming. There wasn't much to do in the internment camp they sent him to.  
And learning foreign languages.  
The camp was full of Jewish, German, French and Italian prisoners of war.

Barracks accommodated 12 men, his homed 6 Italians, 3 Germans including himself, 2 Frenchies, and one Aborigine.

Stefan spent days reading the few books available in the camp, mainly the Holy Bible and the Torah. He read again and again the French version of Nietzsche's "Beyond good and evil" his roommateJean gave him.

He talked at length about that disgusting whiff of racism Australia applied to both native or refugees, who weren't "white enough" for this soil.  
He couldn't stand those 'white supremacy' theories which reminded him the Führer's so bad.  
Why, by all the Gods, why human beings couldn't be considered as such? They all had one heart, two arms and two legs, coloured skins or religions didn't make any difference for him.

Tjupurrurla, an Australian native which skin was black as coal, told him how white people stole the land of his ancestors, banishing them from their own ground. He told him about the British settlers raping native women to father bastards, mixing white and black blood to get rid of the black part. He told him how they forced those children in re-education camps, to teach them the right way to be a good citizen, ignorant of their own mothers, languages and traditional cultures.  
Tjupurrurla ended up in this camp for having hidden the children of his two sisters, both raped by white landowners. His sisters were killed, their children sent to the camps. He has never heard from them since.

Stefan found somewhat funny that primal fear of the British colonists to be stolen the land they first stole.

Heinrich Spielman, a German citizen opponent to the Nazi regime, tried his luck in Australia, after all his family and Jewish friends were killed, himself threatened to be sent in a concentration camp. The spelling test all the immigrants have to pass wasn't supposed to be a problem, he spoke fluently 5 languages, including English. But that sneaky Australians didn't want him and the spelling was done in a lost gaelic scottish language. He failed and was sent to this camp.

Damn, Australia was not that fair...

Stefan avoided talking about his story, not knowing if he could trust those guys. Last time he confessed his real identity, he had to pay for it.

He didn't talk about him but he couldn't stop talking about Mieke and Bree. His beloved family.  
It hurt so much but helped to keep his feet on the ground and hope. Turning mad was easy here and he witnessed several desperate men make attempt to their own lives.

He held onto a small note Mieke managed to send him. The police officer in charge with his relocation to the internment camp was a regular user of Judith and the girl's services and was promised the moon if he passed the envelope on to him. Which he happily agreed, ignoring the consequences if he was caught.  
Mieke joined a picture with the note. One Cora took while their Sunday walk, he loved have a stop on the Harbour Bridge and stare endlessly to the Parramatta river. They decided to take a picture each Sunday, so they could see how Bree would change weeks after weeks.  
No wonder why the pic looked so old, Stefan stared at it hours a day, stroking the fragile paper, when not hiding it right on his chest, where his heart beated.  
The note said Mieke had a plan and ordered him to keep hope and wait.  
Which he did.

He imagined Mieke, all day long, and guessed what she was doing, taking care for Bree, likely finding a job as a teacher or translator for foreigners. He wanted her to move in with Cora, he couldn't stand to know her alone.

She would send letters he would never receive, he wrote letters he could never send.

Until that day of May, a Thursday when he received one.

"Courtney!" The guardian called roughly. "It's time."

Stefan grabbed his bag. Nothing he really cared but a pic of Mieke holding Bree, both wrapped in his arms, the letters he wrote to her, and the one he recently had received.  
The ultimate mail that explained everything. And had him freed today.

 _"Marla will be so sad once Marvin is gone."_  
 _Mieke startled. Judith was French, but she knew the tenses._  
 _"He left a couple of days ago, doesn't he?" She inquired._  
 _"Darlin', the boat is been docking for two days now. Something went wrong with the engine, but they finally fixed it. Marvin is upstairs right now, thrusting his goodbye deep inside Marla!" Judith laughed._  
 _A split second later, she rushed in Marla's room, roughly interrupting their 'goodbye' but there was not a second to be lost._  
 _Marvin offered to stay and help in whatever way hecould but Mieke had all planned. She needed him on board and kick the captain and his staff on the boat and off the docks. And waited_.

 _Waited for weeks for the ship to travel back to London. Waited for months the precious letter came from the Kaiser, who was still confined in the house with his wife._

 _Kaiser Wilhem read the handwritten letter, showed Hermine the pic of the family which was blessed with happiness then, and finally told his wife the truth he had kept secret since, even to her._  
 _The letter the Kaiser wrote wore his recognizable German's style handwriting along with his wax seal._  
 _All he clearly explained clearing Stefan Brandt's name. Their friendship, how he protected and saved Mieke, despite he knew she was Jewish and a spy for the English crown. How Stefan disobeyed direct orders he received from Heinrich Himmler himself. How he shot SS officers to escape the house, saving his life, jeopardizing his plan to drive him to hospital. How he hated the Nazi's theory and what the Führer planned for his own people. How loyal and fiercely patriotic Stefan was to his country, until he realized his country was wrong and mad. How himself was convinced Stefan would be the best citizen Australia could ever dream of, ready to fight if the cause was fair._

 _The mail traveled to Australia by air, safe in an English military aircraft. A frightened-to-fly Marvin in charge with delivering the precious letter personally to Mieke. The Kaiser made sure it arrived as soon as possible, proud to show he had still some power._

 _It didn't last long before Mieke and their lawyer had this clue registered before the Immigration court, which ruled in favour of Stefan Brandt. They also blamed head detective Anderson for his obviously non authorized methods and his deviant lifestyle._  
 _Judith insisted to testify in court._

 _The judge stomped his hammer and stamped the release notice for citizen Stephen Courtney, the only one condition the judge imposed was to keep this name, and ordered Mieke to keep all this waste secret, to save Australia's Immigration department's face from shame._

And this was it. The moment he was waiting for so long.

His sight was blurry as he walked, like through a dark channel, Mieke was waiting for him at the other side, wrapped in the warm sunlight.  
He barely realized he was outside, free, nothing really mattered but his wife and daughter, waving at him only few steps ahead.

He stopped in front of Mieke, marveling at her perfect radiating face, glanced only once at Bree, babbling in her arm.  
He dropped his bag and hugged the loves of his life, so tight he couldn't breathe nor speak.  
He nuzzled his face in the crook of Mieke's neck and cried.  
He just cried. Without restraint nor shame. He cried his eyes out, clung to his wife, his strong and brave heroin. His little soldier. He cried like he never had cried before, enough tears to competewith the Parramatta flows, enough to cover Victoria desert in water.  
He cried the three months of his daughter's life he would never make up. He cried the time lost with his family, the unfairness of his fate. He cried the tears his wife had cried before him.

Mieke just rocked him, she would have rocked him for eternity if he had needed. After tears came more tears, then the flood dried up.  
She cupped his soaked face and gently wiped his cheeks with her palms.

"Let's go home." She whispered.  
She was not crying. She was just wearing the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.


	6. Chapter 6

They had 4 kids, Britany their little Bree, Luke, Adam and Chris. Life took the third back to God just a week after he was born.

They cried, they mourned, weeks turning into months and Chris came unexpectedly, bringing happiness and joy back to the family.

Stefan stroked the old picture with his thumb.

Mieke and he were standing on the Sydney Bridge, Bree in his arms, Luke in his mother's. Adam was still growing inside his mother's womb, little angel who had been ghosting his memories for more than 50 years.

Cora, as she was used to on each Sunday, took this picture in May 1945, Adam was born in June, about two months early.

They were celebrating the end of that damn war, the World sighed in relief but there was so many wounds to heal.

Europe, Russia had been devastated; Germany and Japan would pay for their faults for decades. Mankind would recover, maybe, and have its dignity and faith in humanity bringing goodness back.

Chris was missing in the black and white picture. He came the year after Adam died.

Stefan felt a stab in his heart at the reminder. Mieke and he had been more devastated by his lost than any city blown up to ruins by bombings.

They cried again and again, fighting hell to get up in the morning, trying their best to keep up a smile on their tired faces and raise their other children. Mieke had acted like a ghost for months and all his attempts to cheer her up failed miserably. She closed her heart and her thighs to him, slowly fading away.

One night where she was silently crying, he took her in his arms and rocked her gently; his chin on the top of her head, whispering soothing love words in her ear as she finally let it go.

She cried and hit her fists on his chest, biting his shoulder to keep herself from screaming too loudly. She dug her nails deep into his skin, leaving marks, and then slapped his face with all the force she had left.

Like it was his fault. Like it could be someone's fault.

He let her straddle him as she was beating him up, until she crashed down on him, exhausted and panting. He wrapped his wife close to his chest and sat up; combed back her hair damped with tears, stroked lightly her perfect lines, then brushed her lower lips, red from being bitten to blood.

"Mieke, I love you."

He just said.

She stared at him for a solid minute, reading deep sadness in his eyes, along with hope. And love.

She leant over to brush her lips on his, and then pushed him back to the mattress. Grabbing the hem of her nightdress, she rolled the cloth up her thighs and lifted her ass up to line up with his shaft. Her fingers grasped his pec, and she sighed as she slid down his cock, her eyes never leaving his.

She made love to him, the same way she always had, in their other life.

Chris came 9 full months later. They welcomed this strong young boy, healthy and bald. Happiness filled their house again, along with the cries of the newborn, hungry both for life and milk.

The Kaiser was right; they fought for human rights and equality on each occasion.

They fought for the rights of the natives, and drove to Canberra that day in 2008, when Kevin Rudd apologized officially for the shameful way Australia treated Aboriginals and the stolen generation.

They fought for the equality between men and women, between all human beings, whatever colour their skin was.

They fought against the 'gay panic defense' law, which allowed people to justify a murder in the name of their fear of homosexuals.

More recently they fought for gay and lesbian's rights, hoping for them to be allowed to get married one day. Love was love after all.

They were involved in several causes and proud to teach this to their children. Goodness and justice as a legacy.

And Australia was on its way to the fairness she claimed.

Mieke died the year before, in her mid 70s. Breast cancer. At least, he had all his family back home for the funerals.

Stefan let a sob out, it still hurt so much. They had a good life together; they could tell they knew love and happiness. Which he wished to all his children and grand children.

Brittany married twice and gave birth to three girls. She had to follow her latest husband to Perth and he missed his little Bree so much. She called her mom and dad every day by phone or Skype.

Handwritten letters and much awaited mails were bygone days. He wondered how things would have gone if Mieke had been able to call the Kaiser with her IPhone and get an answer by fax or e-mail within an hour.

Anyway, the two or three times a year he had them home was never enough to enjoy his beloved daughter and her team, to which he loved telling stories of their mother as a child. She still thought she was born here in Sydney, as written and stamped on her certificate of birth.

Luke had always been a lonely and introvert child, only fully alive when talking about ocean and what's beyond. He was eager to travel the world, dreaming of being a sailor or working on an oil rig. He loved staying all by himself and told his parents he didn't feel like he belonged there. He was only 6.

Mieke had cried many rivers, blaming herself not to have been able to take care for him after Adam died, foreseeing their son leaving their household at an early age, which she wouldn't survive as she repeated again and again.

She survived though, when he came home at 17, hired as a steward on a yacht, bound for a cruise to French Polynesia. He was over excited, about to 'live the dream' , jumping up and down through the house, packing his stuff and shoving them in a big duffle bag.

Pulling his crying mother in a huge hug, he begged, subtly delivering the speech he had prepared for the occasion.

"Mom, this is what makes me happy. I promise I'll send you postcards from every single place I land on. Mom, please, let me go."

Stefan looked at the wall where thousands of cards were pinned. There was no country in the world Luke had not put a foot on.

He tried to settle down in Sydney when he was 30, even took a wife and had a son. But this was not a life for him. He had stayed at bay for 4 years but the ocean screamed his name so loud every fucking day and he had to struggle too hard not to pack and leave within the second.

Chris had always been his favorite. Not really his fav but they always had been very close. Thinking alike, same sense of humour, same skills in teasing and winking, same no skill in taking pics. Mieke was use to mocking them, saying they couldn't take a good picture to save their lives.

Chris married a blonde beauty who brought two children into the world. A girl and boy.

They named their first born Bree, after Chris big sister. And the boy was weirdly called Jai, a name he had never heard before, Stephen as a middle name. Like his beloved grand pa.

Bree had dark eyes and hair, she reminded him of Mieke so much. Smart and beautiful, she wanted to become a teacher like her mother. She was surprisingly -not that much- very skilled in foreign languages.

The boy was the perfect Aussie bloke, blonde curls, amazing blue eyes, sporty, cheeky and kind of a womanizer. He had inherited his frame but looked so much like his mother. Pretty allergic to each foreign language that was not deep accented australian.

He often paid a visit to his grand parents, shamelessly skipping school to sip a beer with his grand pa, chitchatting about girls, life and acting. It had always been his passion, playing someone else, telling stories.

He was chasing the gig, dreaming of a career in Hollywood.

Stefan chuckled. He and Mieke had been very talented at it. Being someone else, telling stories, lying about their roots.

Mieke made him swear to never ever speak about their former life. Too dangerous. The shadow of what happened when they arrived in Sydney haunted her brain and she told him she'd rather kill him than relive those bad times.

Their deepest secret had laid under a floorboard since they moved in this house, after Luke was born. Sealed like their lips.

The ID they made whilst in London before leaving, Nietzsche's 'Beyond good and evil' he still remembered Mieke's note and the first page by heart. The letter the Kaiser wrote to save Stefan's life. The official court decision that made him a free man. Their wedding pic. Few pics of them taking pose with Cora or Marvin before they had to cut ties with them. To keep the secret.

It was a miracle that none of their children or grandchildren ever asked about their roots, their story, where Mieke's name came from or why she kept calling his husband Stefan instead of Stephen.

The rules of family secrets. No questions.

At some point, he would have to tell his family the truth.

Stefan Brandt and Mieke De Jong.

The Kaiser Willem II. The spy, the murders, the war, the run. The real story of Bree's birth. Her real name. The reason she named all her dolls Cora. The real reason why Luke lived for sailing. Running from Oz to find where he was really from.

The reason why Jai wanted to be somebody else for a living.

The real story of the Courtney's.


End file.
